


Meet me at the Bar

by FrankenPup



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bad Jokes, Borderlands: Borderlands 3, Domestic Fluff, Drunkenness, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, M/M, Married Couple, Married Sex, Public Display of Affection, Riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:54:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23160547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrankenPup/pseuds/FrankenPup
Summary: Alistair returns from a long, interplanetary mission to meet his husband for some special alone time.
Relationships: Sir Hammerlock/Wainwright Jakobs
Comments: 6
Kudos: 56





	Meet me at the Bar

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd we die like men. There arent any fic where they fuck, so enjoy!

When your husband has an insatiable blood lust to murder and mount rare, endangered creatures, you get to the point that stuffing said creatures full of formaldehyde and armatures makes you sick. Alistair often traveled the galaxy with the crimson raiders searching for his next thrilling adventure. Even with age Alistair enjoyed long hikes through thick forests and camping out in deserted buildings. Waiting for his opportunity to strike upon inspecting prey.

That being said, he would be gone for weeks, months even if he left the planet. Leaving Wainwright to deal with the Jakob's cooperation alone, and the responsibility of taking care of his people. (Not that he had any issue, but having Alistair by his side made things a hell of a lot easier. That man kept his head on straight.)

Though both men had their respective hobbies and working lives, it still left Wainwright missing the love of his life after a stressful day. The lodge was far more quiet without Alistair's quiet chatter.

This was one of those times, days upon days passed since his husband went off with Lilith and her gang to track down a forgotten interplanetary monster. One of legends only locals spoke of. A perfect trip for Alistair Wainwright originally thought, but now the loneliness was enough to make days drag on forever. Even ECHOcalls didn't quite fill the void of having his significant other in his bed.

A long, mind numbing day dealing with his father's legacy deserved an even more mind numbing activity. And what better way to drown away his sorrows than with shroom brew and good old fashioned whiskey.

Wainwright tossed another shot down his gullet, enjoying the burn settling deep in his belly and laid coins for another. Several in fact.

"What's the occasion Wainwright? You never show your face round here less you go some business that needs a gun and a fist full of shells." The bartender snickered, but went right to work fixing up the man's drinks.

Rolling golden eyes, Wainwright scratched at his greying mustache "If you must know, my husband, Alistair; comes back from his mission tonight. Figured we celebrate with a night out."

Grinning a nearly toothless grin, the bartender gave a low whistle. Sliding a topped off glass to the man. "Are you sure it ain't got nothing to do with the rooms upstairs?"

The older man immediately scowled, cheeks warming despite his desperation not to. Thank god it was unnoticeable in the bright green lights. Alistair suggested this place afterall, the selection of booze beat out anything else floating around Eden-6.

"Minding your own business will get you far, boy."

The thrum of his heart beat followed the steady beat of the bar's musical performance. Makeshift instruments crafted from saurian bones and hollow stumps provided the perfect ambience for a planet like Eden-6. Drumming his fingers in time, Wainwright was becoming impatient while scanning the door for movement. The longer he waited, the more anxious the rightful heir to the Jakobs fortune became.

Thankfully, Wainwright lost count of how many glasses of whiskey he managed to down while anxiety riddled his insides. The pleasant, weightless sensation eased the undeniable tension threatening to make the old man puke. He winced at his own ridiculous emotions, it was like he was back in grade school with a stupid crush. He was a married man, to the love of his goddamn life and Wainwright still got butterflies waiting for Alistair. Never a dull, unworried moment. Alistair can take care of himself better than anyone, but still the residual panic still festered when he was late. Especially when the man had a tendency to get kidnapped every other month.

Soon enough his pity party came to an end, the man in question finally made himself known. Winny was in the middle of finishing off his glass when an eager robotic arm waved through the crowd, barely able to catch the call of his pet name over the chatter of the bar.

"Winny! Over here! Excuse me dear- oh sorry sir. No harm to foul I've had my fair share of erotic accessories-"

Wainwright promptly forgot about his watered down excuse for whiskey and jolted from his seat faster than he realized he could move. Shoving through only a few patrons who didn't kindly move when he asked politely to get the hell out of the way.

Wainright finally made it to the love of his life and felt as if the air was stolen from his lungs. Heart swelling as he crashed into the shorter man, and interrupting a sure fire argument with more force than he intended. Lifting him clear off his feet in a tight bear hug.

"It's about time you showed your bastard self, the devil took you so damn long?" The amused laugh he received only prompted him to squeeze his lover tighter. Alistair's strained laughter was contagious, Wainwright found himself grinning for the first time in days.

"My sincerest apologies Winny dear, Lilith promised to have us home by four but one can never predict when Claptrap will, well be himself. Long story that one."

Alistair made sure as soon as his feet hit the ground to lavish a wet kiss right to his sweaty forehead. The smell of hard liquor potent enough to tickle the shorter man's nose.

"Starting the fun without me? I was only a few minutes behind schedule." He teased, artificial fingers making their way beneath Winny's soft, worn leather coat. 

Wainwright felt that familiar tug of a fond smile again, "You got me a nervous wreck waiting for you to show up, this was the only nonviolent course of action."

Wainwright guided them back to his perch at the bar, with only a small stumble. Just in time for the bartender to finish off his concoction of drinks with a wink. Leaving a bottle of Eden-6's iconic moonshine as requested.

Alistair sidled up beside him rather than taking a seat. And he only knew it was his lover plastered to his side judging by the casual palm gliding across his back. Careful digits that danced across the leather logo upon his coat. If anyone else had tried such a move Wainwright would have tipped his chair in seconds flat, wiping out a shotgun from thin air. Instead he leaned into the lavish touch like a starving man.

Glancing at the rather impressive display wall of options, Alistair wiggled his fingers in excitement. Matching Wainwright's fond smile. He tapped the bar top to get the bartender's attention "Your finest homebrewed concoction with enough rum to kill a grog, my good sir."

It wasn't as if they hadn't spoken in months, but it felt wrong not to chat about Hammerlock's successful hunting trip. In fact Alistair called every other day or so to share his findings and research after the raiders got tired of hearing his bodacious excitement. Both men took the time to catch up on recent events, simple recalls of a silly shaped tree or odd balls met along the way. The whole ordeal with Claptrap taking over the ship was a hell of a knee slapper.

But the physical barrier was ironically the most unbearable. Both men spent most of their lives in relative isolation. Those considered family were often distant, believing emotion was a weakness rather than a healthy outlet. Neither of them were used to constant physical assurance, nor gentle displays of affection. Until they had their first date of course.

Finally finding peace, comfort and love in each other often made it difficult to stay apart. As corny and ridiculous as it sounded, they grew used to each other's presence. Integrated deeply into one another's lives, even if it was as simple as enjoying each other's presence on a day to day basis.

Alistair had to be the luckiest guy in the universe to have a man who wasn't some kind of emotionless husk. A sweet, caring, bad ass of a guy that still somehow had a heart of gold even despite his spoiled upbringing. No one was without fault in Borderlands, but somehow Winny managed to hold himself tall above the rest without becoming a disgusting, greedy cooperate boss. A southerner with enough charm and charisma to butt heads against Alistair's own. Let's not forget clever, brave, incredibly handsome, the list goes on and on.

Hammerlock was a gentleman first and a hunter second. Sometimes the two came close to overlapping. However, that didn't necessarily correlate when his dear Winny looked incredibly ravishing in the glowing green of the bar lights. Highlighting the sharp features of his cheek bones and the curve of his nose.

After all, it had been a little under a month since he was in his lover's presence. Photos and holocalls weren't nearly as pleasant as the real thing.

So, he couldn't be expected to keep his hands to himself. Especially not with a few sips of potent liquor warming his body quicker than anticipated. The careful slide of his partner's palm across his waist pulled him close and he simply kept moving. Carefully maneuvering himself into the man's personal expanse of his lap until he managed to make himself comfortable.

Squinting at the barrier between his new glasses of brew, Wainwright finally sighed in defeat. Adjusting to accommodate the new addition without much fuss. Dropping his forehead to the man's shoulder with a huffy. "Now how 'bout that."

A strange move for Alistair, but Wainwright wasn't one to question the man's motives. And it was a bit too much effort to argue when the whiskey's effects definitely made his head spin. All he could focus on was his lover squirming into his lap.

"I don't hear much of an argument." Grinning even a little too widely for the chipper hunter with a clap of his hands.

With his undivided attention now upon him, Alistair stroked his lover's hair. Gently tugging out tangles as he went, toying with a particularly grey hair proving to be just as stubborn as Wainwright himself. Continuing his genius babble but even Wainwright at the moment couldn't keep up.

Alistair was comfortable as can be perched on his husband's lap and really couldn't be bothered if anyone had something to say about it. Delicately crossing his legs to simply enjoy a closeness he hadn't experienced in weeks. He went decades keeping his emotions and well, preferences in check and now he could boast about it just as much as he could breath.

He could shower his chosen lover with caresses and stolen kisses like he always dreamed of as a moody teen. Not to mention a little pda never hurt anyone, even on Eden-6 with murderers and thieves. The ring on his finger said he had a right to be needy. In all honesty, it always felt safer with a Jakob's at his side and one on his hip.

"Now, you know I ain't much for public shows." He began, always the southern gentleman trying to keep their love life private. A fruitless effort, but sweet none-the-less.

"But havin' you sit here is distracting the daylights outta me." Wainwright's voice was thick, proving he had more than just a few glasses of hard whiskey. "Didn't catch half of what you said sweetheart."

The man was either a loud obnoxious drunk, or a cuddly tired thing. No inbetween. And Alistair smugly smiled just a bit wider.

Casually he flexed his fingers, catching the gleam of his wedding band in the sharp green lights "Dear, I think I can forgive you, but I hadn't the foggiest idea you could be so easily manipulated."

Hands that were nursing a half empty glass moments ago found themselves settling to the top of his crossed knees. Squeezing insistently up his thigh in slow drags.

Lips and graying whiskers tickled the side of his throat, and he tilted just the slightest to give the man more room to work with.

Wainwright didn't seem to mind anymore that they were in fact in the middle of some dingy bar, surrounded by locals and dizzy from bog fog. Perhaps it was the alcohol but either way, Alistair decided he didn't mind either, they always had to watch horny men practically hump at their chosen lay for the evening. It wouldn't hurt to have a little fun on their own accord, and no one was about to stop those lovely lips from sucking kisses anytime soon if Alistair had anything to say about it.

Anything besides a few soft kisses or heavy petting however would happen behind closed doors. Without prying eyes hoping for a show, they may be old enough not to give a shit anymore but Alistair didn't work for free. He wasn't about to share the man of his dreams with anyone for anything in this world, or any other galaxy for that matter.

While Wainwright lathered gentle, sloppy kisses across his throat, Alistair finished off his drink in a few sips before turning his attention to the man so carefully squeezing his waist.

A handsome flush decorated his lovers cheeks, even up to his ears. A mixture of multiple glasses of alcohol and Eden humidity. And maybe even a horny flush added to the lovely mixture. Worry lines and wrinkles relaxed, he could practically smell the whiskey on his breath from the depths of his neck. The clumsy touches still felt just as pleasant as sober ones.

Clumsy kisses finally had their fill of littering hickeys to find the soft skin beneath his ear. Trailing across a stumbled cheek till discovering Alistair's waiting mouth.

That darn worn hat always got in the way when they kissed, bumping hazardously as they twisted to slot together properly.

Alistair removed his beloved hat, using it to shield their kiss from prying eyes when he realized a few stragglers didn't have the decency to turn away. Wainwright preferred keeping things behind closed doors, but seemed too drunk to give a damn. Although, it didn't quite muffle the obvious wet sounds as their tongues danced, growing more desperate when strong fingers roamed closer to his thighs. Say what you will, but Alistair would never be able to convince a man like Wainwright to fondle him in public, what happens in the bedroom, stayed in the bedroom apparently. But Winny had just enough to either forget where they were or not care, either way. A win win win.

Their glorious, long awaited moment was interpreted by a wolf whistle, but neither man wished to pull away despite attracting unwanted attention.

Thankfully, Wainwright pulled away first, but didn't allow his hands to move from their position gripped around Alistair's form. Clearing his throat awkwardly to hide the obvious embarrassment of simply getting called out.

"Get a room Jakob's!" Someone laughed, but the mirth in their voice saved them from a stray bullet in the brain.

"Incredibly rude to ruin such a lovely reunion, mind you." Sighing dramatically as he righted his uniform, deciding not to right his collar in hope's someone would appreciate the drunken lovebites as much as he did.

Alistair twirled his cap, only to place it atop Wainwright's unruly head of hair to draw his attention back. Oh, that looked positively silly compared to the rest of his aesthetic. He couldn't help but steal another quick peck to soft, slightly chap lips.

"Well, no one appreciates us here. And I can't appreciate you thoroughly fully clothed."

Reluctant as ever the smaller man slid off his lovers lap, nearly jumping for joy when Winny intertwined their fingers before he got too far.

Alistair held tight to Wainwright's hand to lead them through the throngs of bar goers. Occasionally throwing a hooded look over his shoulder to tease, just a little. A warm flush rushed to his cheeks, finding hazy eyes with more emotion than he was expecting to experience with Wainwright full of liquor.

Wainwright huddled into his personal space as soon as the opportunity arose. Much to his surprise. Rounding the corner of the cavern up towards the cheap rooms above, Alistair had every intention of sharing the room number, but those thoughts flew right out the window. Pressed him up against the nearest surface with a knee slotted between his thighs. Drawing a well deserved gasp from the smaller man.

Lava slowly began to boil in Hammerlock's belly, trapped between a brick wall and a warm, molded body. God it felt like ages since he could feel Winny's chest against his own, the feel of his hands stroking his sides. Even his ever present smell of luxury cologne and tobacco, with a smidge of gunpowder nearly weakened his good knee. Having it rushing back again so quickly was making Alistair's head spin in circles, and brain short circuit.

Wainwright was not doing any better. Thriving on pure instinct to feel, touch, grind. Press impossibly closer to his husband until there was no room between them. Whatever was in those drinks, Hammerlock was sure to get the recipe at a later date.

Alistair did manage to complete a coherent thought, after fiddling with Wainwright's belt long enough to become frustrated. And realize yes, they were indeed out in the open even if it was shadowed by thick foliage. Not he best place to have their fun, even if a little public sex could be incredibly thrilling. Winny would be equally embarrassed, not to mention upset to find out tomorrow morning.

When he finally took a proper breath, breaking away long enough from the southerner to trail kisses down his neck again; unfortunate thing, having lungs. "I-I rented us a room upstairs, for reasons I hope I don't have to explain."

"God love you." Wainwright practically moaned, smothering him once more. "Woulda had you right here if I had the chance."

"Next time." He insisted, grasping the intrepid belt to drag his man in the right direction.

Alistair led the way once more, pants tighter than before and hotter beneath the collar than he remembered. It was a shame he was a tad embarrassed at their disheveled state, half unbuttoned collars, messy hair and swollen lips. Too nervous to meet anyone's eyes. But frankly as soon as he would glance back to make sure Winny was hot on his heels a surge of love and dastardly evil flooded his senses. Fighting the urge to flush like some shy school girl or drop to his knees and service his man right there in the hallway for anyone to see.

The room was hardly worth the price, the corner of the ceiling leaked, it smelled of mildew and Alistair swore he saw a ratch roll under the bed but he didn't have time to investigate, nor did he bloody care with Wainwright grabbing his hips like a man possessed by the devil himself. Not when fiery kisses became sloppy and desperate, not when he could feel his lover's erection pressing sweetly against his thigh.

Without a soul to witness the nasty sex they were about to have, Alistair fully intended to get the show on the road.

Alistair actually moaned suddenly, a sharp, sudden noise followed by a needy arch of his spine. Wainwright sucked hard on his tongue, all the while grazing his nails across his back. The buzz of shitty, home brewed alcohol lighting an already roaring fire to blazing. The faint buzz of the awful music below doing nothing to deter his desperation.

"Winny, As fond as I am of your usual loving pace, I'm afraid if we don't hurry things along, I make combust."

Stripping at the speed of light, Alistair expertly worked open their buttons while Wainwright worked on straps and belts. Items tossed away to be discovered later, cursing at the amount of belts Alistair's normal attire held.

Once they were down to their underwear, extra work had to go into the robotic limbs dominating Alistair’s right side. The arm at least had to go for now, after an incident involving hair of all kinds getting caught in the joints. But Alistair insisted on leaving the leg despite the pain it certainly inflicted afterwards. Whatever he had planned didn't matter as long as the taller man could feel warm, scared skin beneath his fingers.

Nearly naked and finally, finally able to touch bare skin, Wainwright Jakobs held his cheeks so carefully it should have been illegal, especially after nearly fucking against a dirty bar wall. Eyes so full of affection, desire and love the shorter man melted into his grip anyway. A tad upset he couldn't do the same without his prosthetic.

"I forgot how much I missed seeing you naked first thing in the mornin'." praising the gorgeous form before him. Smoothing out the disrupted hairs of Alistair's glorious mustache.

Nuzzling into the calloused hands, he pressed a affectionate kiss to his palm, and another on the thick gold ring upon his lovers left hand.

"Not nearly as much as I bloody missed waking up beside you I'm sure. It's cold in space, a hairy thing like you would have been an excellent heat source."

Hiding his smile with a few more kisses, Wainwright continued in a hushed tone, words a tad slurred "More than finding your mustache hair in the sink, not as fun shaving without your commentary."

Love, lord help him that familiar sickly sweet feeling blossomed right above the hot knot low in his belly. "And I found I can hardly think straight without you insistent clinking of your boots following me about."

Their previous desperation became slow passion, with some resistance. Without the fear of being separated once more before they could show their love and affection.

Winny backed them to the bed but didn’t bother to pull the sheet away, they wouldn't need them. He had no intention of letting his husband sleep anytime soon.

Hammerlock reluctantly pulled himself away from his husband's liplock before they could fall back together, clearing his throat in hopes not to sound as needy as he felt.

"Take a seat won't you, my dear?"

Wainwright did as he was told without a word, glorious bastard. Seating himself on the edge of the bed but drawing a yelp from his smaller lover when he grabbed him by the seat of his ass to drag him closer.

"Oh- oh wait just a moment. There was a point to all this. Where the bloody- ah! There it is."

Alistair exclaimed a happy sound, padding over to their discarded clothes. Brushing imaginary dust off his beloved hat "Already got the lotion Alistair get yer ass over here."

"Oh no, not that Winny. Good to know though. I have an incredible, undeniable urge to mount and ride you like some old west cowboy and what better way than with a few accessories?" Tipping the brim of his tattered hat much like a cowboy would tipping to a lady.

More than a bark than a laugh his husband returned to his position in Winny's lap. Not one to leave his lovers waiting, discarding his boxers to meet the hot hairy skin of Wainwright’s thighs. Hat resting low on the back of his head with what he hoped was a charming wink and a waggle of his brows "Yeehaw, as those ruffians say."

"Saddle up cowboy." Wainwright's eyes were blown out, dark even in the darkness of the room.

Hooking a leg across Winny's hips, Alistair ground their hips together for blissful friction making both men groan softly. Relieving the desperate need for friction.

Knees on either side of Winny's hips gave him a pleasant view of looking down at his lover. Stroking his remaining hand through graying curls, tugging till he earned a shit eating grin and a flutter of his lashes.

Alistair fondly stroked the sensitive skin beneath Wainwright's jaw, laying sparse kisses in his wake. Till he finally cupped the growing bulge between Winny's knees, still trapped in the thick confines of his undergarments.

Alistair smiled, one he simply couldn't erase when he pulled an eager sigh from his lover. That deep, gravely husk never got old, especially in times like these.

Dragging his fingertips he cupped the obvious interest with talented hands. Only having a little bit of trouble trying to tug the damn boxers out of the way with one hand.

Alistair finally met the hot, throbbing flesh of Winny's cock and shivered at yet another low groan spilling from his husband's lips.

Gasping, a bit dramatically, he discovered Wainwright had been busy in his absence. Things looked much tidier than usual in the Jakob's family jewels department.

"You trimmed your pubic hair?" The restrain in voice was nearly toxicicating and it brought a smug laugh bubbling in the chest beneath him. A grin peaked from below a finely kept mustache "Surprise."

Alistair dove for another heated kiss, enthusiastic as ever "I hope you know how much I adore you, no one likes going down on a bush."

A bottle clicked open and Alistair knew he was done for, unable to stop a snicker when wet fingers found the opening between his cheeks. Pleasantly pleased and just a tad full of himself, Wainwright looked up at him in confusion, and a little horror.

"A little treat of my own."

It was one thing to surprise your lover with a haircut, but quite another for a wetness that certainly didn't belong there. And he hurried to soothe his confusion.

"Don't look at me like that. We were either going to fornicate like animals or drink ourselves silly. Either way we weren't leaving the bedroom." Tracing a faint scar upon the other man's shoulder.

"Though admittedly I was hoping for the sexual side of things, otherwise it would have been horribly uncomfortable. I can't imagine how it would feel on the trip back to the lodge."

Wainwright's look of shock, still mingled with a hint of confusion and soothed away his scowl with a kiss "It also may have been why I was a tad behind schedule. Nervous excitement. You know how it is."

Wainwright had to swallow the desire rushing south, Alistair; eager enough to pleasure himself in preparation was way too hot to think about with the task at hand. But goddamnit, even with whiskey making him dizzy, it still felt wrong to skip fingering the love of his life.

"You're always skipping the fun part." He scolded softly, two fingers slipping into Alistair's ass effortlessly and without warning.

Alistair inhaled sharply, because that was certainly not the reaction he was expecting. Blind arousal, aggressive lust. Something involving a few swats on the rear most likely. But this was not anything he hoped for. Careful exploration to find his limit, and he leaned into the searching fingers despite his better judgement.

Grasping at the southerner's shoulder for some kind of purchase at the sudden intrusion, he wrapped the stump of his arm holding tight to the man's neck "Y-yes well," doing his best to keep the fog from his mind to enunciate his words properly "It's been almost a month Winny dear. I hoped to get the rougher side of things going a bit smoother, if you catch my innuendo."

But Wainwright didn't budge, not with a reply to his remark or the scissoring of his fingers. Instead, those lubed fingers made quick work to curl just right to jerk the smaller man forward. Slow, drags of his fingers had Alistair aching for more, pressure, intensity, something other than the thick intrusion "This isn't necessary Winny I promise I'm thoroughly-"

Wainwright simply brought their lips together to prevent further complaints. Quickening his fingers to draw a luscious moan from the impatient man in his lap.

"Rushin through this ain't an option Alistair. I want my fill of the fun too."

In that case, despite the tremble up his spine Hammerlock relented to his lovers whim. It was only fair after all. Winny did appreciate taking things slow, basking in the intimacy and pleasure they had together rather than rush though such an intimate time.

Wainwright’s eager adrenaline to bury himself in the handsome man in his lap couldn't be more obvious even if he tried to stay unaffected by Alistair's groans. Bucking his hips to relieve the strain against warm flesh of his husband's ass. But his fingers kept their pace, adding a third to stretch Alistair properly.

A blessing in disguise just so happened to be Wainwrights drunken coordination. When his thrusting fingers became erratic, his hips would falter. And Hammerlock caught on quickly, catching the drunken idiot in a sweet kiss. His heart may be swelling at Winny's efforts but the throbbing between his thighs outweighed much else.

With a shaky hand Alistair searched for his lovers dick. Lathering it with lube to move things along as quickly as possible now that his husbands had his fill of totally unnecessary foreplay.

Wainwright helped guide him down, supporting his weight. Alistair wasn't nearly as heavy without his prosthetic limbs, but the last thing they needed was a man with half his limbs to flail backwards and land on the cold floor. A complete mood killer, they discovered.

Hammerlock's hips rocked cautiously at first, remembering the feel of his lover's swollen cock throbbing inside him was nearly too much to bare. How if he arched his back just right, Winny's cock head would catch against his arse without popping out. Or how a quick clench could make even his husband choke on his already shaky breaths.

It had been months since their last intimate affair, lustful nights alone finally at an end. And good lord he could ride this glorious cock for hours, he intended to do more as soon as his legs weren't piles of useless bones. 

Once Alistair anchored himself properly, he lifted himself up carefully. Rocking his hips back down to test the waters. He sighed loudly through his nose, eyes fluttering shut when he finally, finally took Wainwright's cock to the base.

"J-just like that darling." The shorter man breathed. Rocking together was easy, even with his husband's drunken coordination. Alistair rose back up, dragging his hips only to crash back down with enough force to make them both moan together. Winny's hands held tight to his hips, suddenly overcome with pleasure coursing up his spine. Spewing a string of nonsense as words failed the poor bastard.

Head falling back, and tumbling his hat with it, Alistair groaned softly as his husband's hips began to thrust to meet him. Occasionally striking that special bundle of nerves that even made an old man's toes curl in delight.

"Oh Winny! There-!"

Tongue thick, Wainwright swallowed hard "I got you, sweetheart. Jus' keep moaning for me."

Blissed out of his mind, Hammerlock bounced on his husband's cock like he owned the damn thing. (In a way, he did. Not to brag.) The real thing didn't even come close to late nights alone with only his hands to soothe the ache. And it wasn't nearly as satisfying when lips moved against his own.

Wainwright's face was scrunched up in concentration, buried in Hammerlock's shoulder. To bring them both closer to the sweet knot tightening in his balls. His fingers digging into flushed hips, reminding Alistair he was practically at his husband's mercy.

He made a mental note not to beg Winny to tie him up again for some fun at a later date. But for now he worried more about the erotic throbbing inside him. And chasing the pulsing pleasure making his knees weak. Wainwright's strained gasps and groans spurring him on, desperate to hear the deep calls of his name again and again.

"A-Alistair I'm gonna cum inside you."

Alistair wasn't one to whine, and he would never admit to doing so without some kind of threat. But whatever slipped past his lips definitely was a whine, high and needy and on the cusp of something wonderful. He wasn't some kind of mindless horndog, but in that particular moment he would have done anything his lover asked of him. "That will be… ah incredibly messy-" struggling to even speak.

Breath heavy and sparaic, the man nearly growled right into his ear "I said." He reiterated his words with hard, punishing thrusts upwards, chasing the feeling that flashes stars behind Alistair's eyes. "I'm gonna fuck you how I want, and fill you as I please. Now stop rushin' me damnit."

Hammerlock’s entire body seemed to short circuit after that. Every bounce shot hot electricity through his body, thighs quivering to keep himself moving to chase shock after glorious shock. A garbled mess of syllables rocked the bottoming man as he tried to think of something to say in retaliation, but no matter how hard he tried, how hard he wished to retaliate, all he could moan was "O-Oh dear me."

Winny wasn't much of a dirty talker and Hammerlock was caught off guard by the implication of his words. Usually a very praising man in bed. But he was out to stroke Alistair's dirty little secrets one at a time, or perhaps he finally grew tired of Allistair's need to speed things along. Winny appreciated slow nights of passion, and even a man like him had hits limits. 

A man who questioned all forms of life and expectations, didn't bother to question Wainwright's odd choice of words. Because it sent the blood rushing to all the right places, he would take anything he could get. As long as Winny kept up that deep, husky voice.

Alistair finally gave in to his inability to form the queen's english, arching for more of everything Wainwright had to give him.

Wainwright's hips became sparaic, pistoning deep into the man in his lap. He came first, shouting a incoherent slur of words that sounded suspisioucly like “fuck!” Hips following their own accord, Winnys grip tightened to make the promise he made. To fill his lover as he pleased.

Wet, hot, sticky. Everything Alistair despised but behind closed doors, in the privacy of his own bedroom he couldn't give a damn about the slickness dripping between his cheeks. Or the flushed, sweaty body sticking to his hips almost uncomfortably. Not when Wainwright's rough palm found his weeping cock, smothering the dribble of precum across the tip to jerk him in time with quivering thrusts.

A uncoordinated left hand was nothing compared to the skill of a dominant right. That was Hammerlock's philosophy anyway. Lucky Wainwright still had two warm, large palms to take care of him with. And when strong fingers dug into his ass to urge him deeper, he lost his mind.

Hammerlock rode through his orgasm lazily, a soft call of his husband's name and he spilled. A rough hand followed him through, milking him dry with persistent strokes. Refusing to let his quivering thighs or pain from the robotic joint of his knee get in the way of his intimate moment.

"Holy shit Alistair."

Wainwright's breath was hot on his throat, catching their breath together as pleasant afterglow washed over the lovers like a warm blanket. Alistair took the time to kiss his way along Wainwright's jaw. Lathering it with just as much attention the man did only a few hours before. Alistair mumbled affectionate praise kisses while admiring the splotchy flush warming his lovers neck and cheeks.

Carefully lifting himself away from his lover's cock, Alistair made a noise at the wet squelch and the unpleasant sensation of cum sliding between his legs. When the blood wasn't rushing south, mind clear as day, it was a different kind of sensation rather than the sexy kind. Unfortunately it wasn't the most unpleasant sensation either.

Once his blood stopped singing in through his veins, Alistair pressed their sweaty foreheads together with an amused laugh "You started reading my erotic novels didn't you?"

Wainwright's chest rose and fell, and Hammerlock did his best not to crush him entirely under his weight. 

"Not much of a hiding spot when it's under your pillow."

Stroking lazy circles upon his lover's chest, Alistair teased a dusty pink nipple when curly chest hair lost his interest.

At least the mildew was overpowered by sweat and sex, and if the ratch was watiching, it at least had the descency to keep quiet.

The larger man wrapped his arms around him comfortably, taking him back to lie down rather than sit on the god awful comforter.

"No no!! No we are not lying on this filthy mess of a bed." Alistair hollered, he missed the evil smile on Winny's face. Wainwright's grip only tightened, and the sharp gleam in his eyes dared the man to say another word.

Perhaps next time he should hold more heat in his tone, but it was difficult when it felt as if his bones turned to jelly. And he had no real intention of shoving his lover away when even sweat washed skin stuck them together.

Somehow his lover knew just how to settle him down, a soft stroke here, a quick peck there. And he huffed in defeat.

"Love you Darlin.' "

Sighing, he gave up, settling into the others chest "I love you too, Winny."

Caught between wanting to stay just a bit longer and remove himself from the crusty blankets, Alistair decided they needed to get moving back home. Even if he was never one to fuck and run, the soft blankets of their own shared bed were to tempting to resist.

He sat up and allowed Alistair to remove himself from his lap. But not without planting a soft kiss to the back of his flesh hand.

Wainwright caught himself staring a longer than he should have, admiring his husband trot around the small room in search of their clothes. How the dim moonlight filtering through the dusty curtains outlined Alistair's ridiculously tiny waist. He even managed to admire the noticeable marks lingering on his husband's hips. And the hickeys just above his collar bone swelled a strange form of pride deep in Wainwright's old chest.

By the time he came back to the present, (Alistair finally pulled his pants on, mind you.) The man was already dressed. Adjusting his hat and securing his gun by the time he was caught staring.

"Dinners waiting for us back home."

"Splendid! I am a little peckish." Cheerfully clicking his heels. "On the way I was hoping we would take a detour to that old waterfall we used to frequent? Clean up a bit before we get down and dirty in our own bed."

With a playful pinch to Wainwright's rump, both me walked hand in hand. Ready to make up for lost time in the privacy of their own bedroom, and maybe the shower. Wainwright's office sounded rather interesting too.


End file.
